To Tell A Tale As Old As Time
by JunoInferno
Summary: Storybrooke Studios' latest picture is Beauty and the Beast starring has-been Robert Gold and bright young starlet, Lacey French. Can the filmmakers succeed in telling the story when forces conspire against them and can the stars get their own happily ever after when their feelings become more than just acting? Old Hollywood AU.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time. I intend this as a love letter to Rumbelle and the fandom. I make no claims on historical accuracy in terms of the studio system and immediate postwar history, but as a history major and film major I intend to do my best as a matter of honor. Please let me know what you think and happy reading.

* * *

><p>Hollywood.<p>

The place where most people came to pursue their dreams had become Robert Gold's nightmare.

As his alarm clock rang, he got three unpleasant reminders. One, he was alone, his wife having long ago decided she needed her own bedroom. Two, his leg throbbed. It always had since the war. Third, he was due at the studio in an hour.

God, he hated this place.

The door opened and Milah stuck her head in. "If you don't get up, you'll be late."

"Yeah, thanks..."

She let the bedroom door slam on her way out and Robert painstakingly sat on the side of the bed.

Another day in paradise.

* * *

><p>"Mama! Mama! Wake up!"<p>

Lacey French opened her eyes and smiled. Colette stood over her, boring holes into her.

"Well, good morning, sweetheart."

"I need to know how the story ends," she lamented as she plopped onto the mattress with her blonde locks bouncing.

Lacey frowned playfully. "That's not quite the deal we made, is it?"

"Does the prince save the princess?"

"Well, you'll have to wait and see tonight assuming you behave for Mrs. Lucas," said Lacey, forging her way around the five year old and into the bathroom.

"Mama..." she moaned.

Lacey stood. "Colette, you know I have to be at the studio."

Colette sat on the bed and pouted as Lacey walked into the bathroom. "Why?"

Lacey flicked on the vanity light and sighed as she looked in the mirror.

"Because princes only save the princesses in stories."

* * *

><p>Don Francis walked into the Story Department of Storybrooke Studios just as the first secretaries began to arrive and start the coffee. He walked straight back to the office he was certain had been occupied all night.<p>

"Laurel..."

The petite brunette lifted her head from the desk and groaned.

"What on earth do you want?"

"We're meeting Leo in an hour."

"What? No..."

"No, I had to bribe Johannah to get us the slot after his bagel, but before he meets with Regina. It's the best slot of the day, he's never happy after he talks to publicity."

"It's not ready."

"Yes, it's ready, Laurel. Come on."

She staggered up. "Why can't we do it next week?"

Laurel stepped behind the screen in her office to change. Don turned away.

"Because August Booth's picture wraps this week. It's my only chance to get Robert Gold before somebody snags him."

"You mean Eddie."

"When Eddie just wants him to play the bad guy for his new golden boy, yeah."

Laurel emerged from behind the screen in a fresh dress. "Someone's bitter." She turned around in front of Don. "Zip me."

Don shook his head. "What do you do when no one's there?"

"Suffer."

The door opened and they were joined by an Englishman in a bizarre vest. He eyed the scene before him.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Don snorted. "No."

"Mark, would you zip me? Don's being horrid."

Don stepped aside as Mark zipped the dress.

"The way I see it is we pitch three ideas. We'll use Red Riding Hood first, then Beauty and the Beast and then a throwaway. Laurel you've got something, don't you?"

"Do you think I just sit around here coming up with bad ideas?"

"So you don't have one?," asked Mark.

"Of course I do."

* * *

><p>Lacey pulled next to the guard station. The line of Cadillacs went practically all the way down Riverside. Lacey's little blue Studebaker stuck out as the engine chugged. She was still uncertain about life as an actress and had only relented on buying any kind of car out of practicality.<p>

"Miss French," said the guard.

"Good morning, Mack. How are you?"

"Fine."

"And Jocelyn? How's she handling the baby?"

"She's practically sleeping through the night, my little princess."

"Oh, good. I'm so glad."

Lacey got a start as the car behind her blew its horn. She turned back to shoot a glare at the driver of the black Cadillac.

"Sorry, Miss French, I shouldn't have been talking your ear off."

"It's not your fault, Mack," said Lacey. She turned back. "Someone's being rude!"

Lacey drove off into the lot. The black Cadillac pulled up.

"Good morning, Mr. Gold," Mack said.

Gold merely grunted in response and drove on to the lot.

* * *

><p>The wait outside Leo Blanchard's office was agonizing, but none of the three wanted to go in unless he was done with his bagel.<p>

"Stick with the plan, Laurel," said Don, looking at her sideways.

"I can stick with the plan."

Mark leaned forward. "You just have a tendency to go off script."

"I do not."

"And you get frustrated," Don added gently.

"Name one time I got frustrated in a story meeting."

"The Sherlock Holmes meeting," said Mark.

"Eventually someone is going to have that take on it. It's crying out for it. This is his own fault for not doing Mermaid," Laurel snapped.

"Going well already," Mark muttered.

"How are we supposed to shoot underwater?," asked Don.

"Esther Williams is doing it somehow!"

"We could pitch Snow Queen," said Mark.

Don shook his head. "Don't you dare backtrack now."

"Snow Queen isn't near ready to pitch."

"Guys," said Don, "we pitch three ideas. Red Riding Hood, Beauty and the Beast and the throwaway."

Johannah entered. "Mr. Blanchard is ready for you."

Leo Blanchard was a quiet man. He didn't like scripts, he liked the plots written up for him and he liked to hear pitches. Always three.

A system which arguably the best team at Storybrooke Studios often used to their advantage.

He stared at them as Laurel finished her Red Riding Hood pitch.

"She eats the boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Leo frowned. "You can't end a picture like that. I'd rather she eat the grandmother."

"We'll work on it, let's move to the next idea," Don suggested, giving Laurel a nod.

"Right," said Laurel. She put on her biggest smile. "We start in a sleepy Provençal village-"

Leo looked at Mark. "What about True Love's Kiss? Peter could kiss the wolf and she turns back to the beautiful girl?"

"Well..."

Don spoke up again. "How are we going to shoot the boy kissing a wolf without his face getting chewed off?"

"I was speaking," said Laurel.

Don shot her a look of concern. Leo didn't notice.

"Of course, I'm sorry," said Leo. "Work on the wolf thing, though."

"Right," said Laurel, "we begin in a sleepy Provençal village-"

"Provençal?," Leo interrupted. "You don't have to go to France, do you?"

"No, we'll shoot it on the back lot," Don promised.

"We close in on a girl with her nose stuck in a book. This is Belle."

"Is this my Beauty and the Beast?," asked Leo.

"Yes."

"Well, don't drag me through every detail..."

"Belle's father is a merchant, he goes to do trade at the castle and is imprisoned by the fearsome Beast," said Laurel. "Belle goes to find her father and he's grown ill. She fears he'll die and trades herself to be Beast's prisoner. Over time, they fall in love and he lets her go."

"Lets her go?," asked Leo.

"This is where it gets good," Don promised.

"Belle's father doesn't believe Beast could have treated her kindly and leads the villagers along with Belle's idiot fiancé into an attack on the Beast's castle. When the villagers come, he's sad."

"Sad?" Leo seemed skeptical.

Mark spoke up. "He's lived in isolation in his castle for years. He never expected or believed that anyone could fall in love with him, but she has and he lets her go because she deserves a life he can't offer her. Now all he has to look forward to is the same bitter solitude. He welcomes death."

Laurel picked up. "Belle comes to the castle to save the Beast, but before she can, the fiance- Gaston- pushed him off a ledge. He falls to his end as Belle watches in horror. She goes to him and sobs..."

"And this is where your True Love's Kiss comes in," Don promised.

"Belle's goodbye kiss breaks his curse," Laurel finished. "They are married, Gaston is vanquished and they live happily ever after. We end with them waltzing on a ballroom floor."

Leo frowned. "What's the third idea?"

"Hamlet with lions," said Laurel.

Leo looked to Don. "Do you want to get control of her?"

Laurel continued undeterred. "We begin on an African savannah as the sun rises, animals of all types gather all marching towards the same destination-"

"Leo, we don't need a third idea," said Don. "Beauty and the Beast is it. You already made a lot of money with Snow White and Midas' Daughter."

"Do you think this is as good as Snow White?"

"Well, no fault of your daughter's but I think it could be better than Snow White."

Leo looked at Laurel. "Do you have a script?"

"Yes."

"Have you all seen The Mysterious Island yet?"

"Of course," said Don. "Everyone's talking about it."

Leo nodded. "Terrific picture with our newest starlet in a small role. I think she would be a good fit for the part of Belle..."

"The young widow with the baby?," asked Don.

"Lacey French." Leo took a publicity shot from his desk and handed it across the desk to Mark.

Mark nodded.

"Isn't she Australian?," asked Laurel.

Mark shrugged. "French. Australian. Americans can't really tell the difference.

"Errol Flynn," Leo interjected with a shrug.

"Precisely," said Mark. He turned back to Leo. "I'd like to do a screen test."

"Of course. I assumed you had someone in mind for the Beast and the fiancé. Gaston? You three never come in here without having all the ideas."

Don didn't blink. "George Knight and Robert Gold."

"Robert Gold? Interesting choice, but we might as well do something with him since he's under contract for the time being," said Leo. "Still, seems like a shame to have George Knight in makeup most of the picture..."

Laurel opened her mouth and Don placed his hand on her wrist. "Then we're a go?"

"Tell me when you've talked to Belle."

They said their thanks and left, leaving the air-conditioned comfort of the executive building for the glow of movie land sunshine.

"You didn't tell him," Laurel accused.

"I told him, he just drew his own conclusions."

"He'll find out eventually."

"Leo's about to go on a tour of Europe with his wife. When he gets back Beauty and the Beast will be so far along, he won't be able to argue. Leo can find out at the premiere."

Laurel looked at Mark. "Is this Australian any good? I can't have some starlet ruining my film."

"Don't you mean my film?," asked Mark.

"Our film. Beauty and the Beast is our film. We just have to keep everyone else from screwing it up," Don said decisively. He turned to Laurel. "I can't believe you actually pitched Hamlet with lions."

"Somebody is going to do it eventually," she said plaintively.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon a Time. Thanks for your reads and reviews and follows! I really appreciate them! Please let me know what you think and happy reading!

* * *

><p>"And cut!"<p>

Gold grimaced. His leg was throbbing under that brace, buried under the thick costume. He could finally relax as the anxious stagehand quickly handed him his cane.

"Uh, Bob, could I talk to you a moment?"

He tensed. Bob. These bloody Americans, always wanting to give you a nickname you didn't have. They had been shooting this picture for weeks. This was the final one. He tried to keep himself from biting his head off for it.

He turned round to face the director, August.

"I was just wondering if you could be more angry in that last scene."

"More angry?"

"Yeah, you were cold scary, but do you think you could do angry scary?"

"Could I do angry scary?"

"We could read through some of the lines if you wanted."

He picked up his cane with a mind to putting it to the young director's skull when he was saved by an unlikely angel.

"August, could I talk with Robert a minute?"

Both men looked up to see Don Francis.

August looked affronted by the idea. The two were not friends, Don having refused to let August in on any number of juicy assignments in the past. "We were just going over some things-"

Don took Gold away by the arm. "Relax. Go get some lunch."

They were out of the soundstage when Gold finally said, "Thank you for saving me from putting my cane against his skull."

"Yeah, August is definitely not the best director on the lot. That's why we leave him with the B pictures."

"Oh, thank you, dearie..." he said mirthlessly.

"You are not a B actor. Everyone in town knows that."

"I highly doubt it."

"Yeah, what do you suppose that gold statue for The Miller's Daughter was about?"

"That, dearie, was before the war."

They ended up back in his dressing room. Gold sat down, relieved to be off his leg at last.

He let off a deep breath and looked at Don. "Sorry. I should have offered you something."

"I'll get it," said Don, moving to the bar. "Still take your Scotch neat?"

He snorted. "It's the way a real man takes it."

"How are Milah and Bae?"

Gold snorted. "He wants to be called Neal now."

"Do you blame him? Remember, I know your real name," said Don. He handed Gold his tumbler and they silently clinked glasses.

"And what are we toasting?," asked Gold.

"You would be surprised," said Don, taking a seat on the sofa.

"Would I?"

"I just came from a meeting with Leo."

"Oh, lovely. Who would he like me to play next? The evil pawnbroker? The evil sorcerer? The evil lawyer?"

"Actually, no. Laurel, Mark and I have been working on a project for a while. It's sort of our baby."

Gold snorted. "Well, that's going to be one weird kid."

"We finally got the green light from Leo to do it and you were the only one we want for it."

"What evil person am I to play now?"

Don smiled. "You're not evil, just misunderstood. You're the Beast."

"Beauty and the Beast?," asked Gold. "You want me to be the Beast?"

"Yes."

"I'm not the villain?"

"More than some, not as much as most."

"I suppose I'll take that."

"Look, honestly, it's one of Laurel's best. Probably the best thing she's ever written. This picture is going to be good. After you're done with August, we need to get you in make up tests and Mark wants a lot of rehearsal."

"Question is, where are you going to find someone willing to kiss me?"

Don smiled and put his glass down. "I'm working on that. Just be sure to brush your teeth."

Gold half-chuckled.

"I'll have someone bring you the script before you leave the lot," said Don.

Don left and Gold laid his head back on the chair, trying to slow the time until he had to go back to set and trying not to get his hopes up about Don's project.

* * *

><p>Laurel and Mark sat in the screening room watching the flickering light as The Mysterious Island played out. Don entered.<p>

"You know it is in theaters," said Don, sitting a seat away from Laurel.

"Why would I do that when it's here for free?," she asked.

"You know what they say about her kind..." Mark said dryly.

Laurel turned to him sharply. "And do you know what they say about your kind?"

"Guys..." Don said softly.

Laurel sighed. "And here's the American determined to bring peace, justice and Hershey's bars to the world."

"Quite," said Mark.

"Both of you shut up," said Don. He motioned at Belle French onscreen as "Claire" tried to cheer up some young children by camping on the beach. "What do we think?"

"The boss is right. She's perfect."

"She is spun sugar on top of ice cream over a center of sunshine," said Laurel. "Though not quite in the same way that Mary Margaret does it. There's something sad there. What do we know about her?"

Don shrugged. "I haven't met her yet. Story is she left Australia a few years ago after her husband died in the war. Leroy from Casting found her working at a flower shop off Olive, gave her his card and told her to come down."

"Did you see Gold?," asked Laurel.

He nodded. "He is not looking good." Laurel's face quickly shot up at him in concern. "I'm sure he'll rally."

Mark spoke. "Gold's an actor. He'll be fine once he realizes how bloody good the material is."

"Does he know about his wife and the Irishman yet?," Laurel wondered aloud.

"How the hell do you know about his wife?," asked Don. "You've been typing in a basement for the last three months."

Laurel turned to him. "I know he's not the first."

"It never is," commented Mark.

"Shut up and watch the movie," said Don. "And I don't want to hear about Jones again. I'm not letting that scoundrel or that wench wreck our picture."

* * *

><p>Robert struggled into the house. August's ideas for scary angry had involved more blocking than he counted on. It was a relief to take the brace off and just get back to the Cadillac. He had been in such a hurry he almost missed the messenger from Don's office who came running to his car with the script for Beauty and the Beast.<p>

As he entered, Milah was standing by the mirror in the foyer, fixing some earrings he didn't remember seeing before on, clearly dressed for an evening out.

"You look lovely," he said.

She didn't bother thanking him for the compliment. "I'm going out with some friends for dinner, I figured your leg would hurt too much." She rolled her eyes as if he had some say in the matter.

"Where's Bae?"

"Neal's at a scout meeting."

"I thought we weren't going to call him that."

"Well, I thought you were fun when I married you."

He tried to let that one go. "Don Francis came to see me today. He wants me for a new film."

Milah picked up her evening bag and walked towards the door. "Goldie made dinner. Don't wait up."

He sat for dinner at the kitchen counter alone. Goldie was an animated woman, who chatted as she cleaned up. He sent her home for evening and dived into the script.

Robert barely slept that night. He kept waking up and reading the script again. He could hardly believe he had been given something that good, he hadn't had anything good in years, Blanchard just kept feeding him villains in an attempt to make use of the remainder of his contract. He was starting to worry about renewal. It wasn't that he was desperate to stay on in the same role again and again, but he had a family. He would never hear the end of it from Milah if he went unemployed and Bae had school fees. Working hadn't been a pleasure since before the war, but if this went well...

He couldn't allow himself to dream. He couldn't afford to. Dreaming got him nowhere. For now, he just had to do the work the best he could.

* * *

><p>Lacey was puzzled when she got to the lot. She knew she had a light day on Iliad and might not be needed at all but she had not expected to be summoned to a screen test with Marcus Dashwood and Don Francis. They gave her some sides and briefly led her through them before the test began. They filmed and went back to Don's office. Lacey waited alone inside for almost an hour, nursing her tea when the producer and director finally emerged. They did formal introductions and Don fixed drinks before they were all seated.<p>

"We haven't really met yet," Don said apologetically. "I asked Leroy about you."

"Leroy's very nice," said Lacey.

Mark scoffed. "I've never heard that account given of him before."

"Well, I've found that the people who give you a hard time are often much nicer than you give them credit for. It's the ones who act nice that you need to watch out for."

"What an interesting perspective," said Mark.

Lacey shook her head. "That's just been my experience."

"I visited Australia during the war," said Don.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I passed through Melbourne."

"Well, I'm not from anywhere near there. I grew up on a sheep station in the outback, half a day from the nearest town."

"Leroy mentioned you have a daughter."

"Colette. She's five."

"And your husband?"

"Dead, in the war." Lacey shrugged. "I just had to get away from home, you know?"

Don nodded. "Well, Mark and I are putting together a new picture. The story is by Laurel Meyer-"

Lacey shook her head.

"Oh, she goes by L.E. Meyer. She wrote Snow White, Midas' Daughter, The Miller's Daughter-"

"Oh, I loved The Miller's Daughter," said Lacey.

"We had to fight for that ending," said Don. "Nobody likes sad endings."

"Well, I did," said Lacey.

"Anyway, the point is that we want you to be in our next film. Beauty and the Beast."

"And you will be perfect for the part of Belle," said Mark.

"Me?," asked Lacey. She couldn't believe it. "You want me? To play the lead?"

"Leo Blanchard himself asked for you and frankly, it was a stroke of genius," said Don. "You're perfect."

Lacey shook her head. "Do you want me for a lead, though? This is only my fifth film-"

"Experience isn't always what matters in these things," said Don.

"Your screen test was perfect."

Lacey was stunned. "Really, I don't know what to say."

"Most people say thank you."

Lacey nodded. "Of course. Thank you. I won't let you down."

"Of course you won't," said Mark.

* * *

><p>Lacey returned to her cozy bungalow full of excitement that night. Leo Blanchard himself had wanted her, which meant she had a future at Storybrooke Studios and that meant she and Colette would be secure. As she made dinner and sat down with Colette, she was sure she would burst any moment. Colette carried on as she often did, recounting her trip to the park with Mrs. Lucas and the travails of her imaginary friends that day.<p>

"What should we do this weekend?," Lacey asked Colette when the girl finally paused for a bite of carrot. "We could go to the beach or maybe for a hike."

"Can we go to the movies?"

"Why? We just did that."

"I want to see you again."

Lacey smiled at her daughter. "You can see me here. Besides, that's not really me on the screen. Mama's just playing make believe."

"Can I go to work with you and see you make a movie?"

"Baby, I know it looks fun, but you would get bored."

Colette stared down at her plate.

"I have some news I think you'll like, though," said Lacey.

Colette looked up.

"You know those fairy tale movies you like? Snow White, The Miller's Daughter?"

"Yes."

"Well, the people who make those have asked me to be in their new picture and it's a fairy tale."

Colette gasped. "Do you get to be a princess?"

Lacey nodded. "I think I do."

"And do you wear a princess dress?"

"We've just started so we'll have to wait and see."

"And is your prince handsome?"

"He's a beast," Lacey said gasping for effect.

Colette's face dropped.

"But the important thing about princes isn't what they look like, it's how they treat you."

Colette frowned. "I guess."

"I'm sure you'll understand when the picture comes out," said Lacey. "Finish your carrots."

Lacey laid awake that night with the scent of orange trees wafting in from the yard.

She couldn't sleep. It was too much, having a part with such a great team, having the seal of approval of Leo Blanchard himself. It wasn't the fame that she cared about or even the acting- though she did get a lot of satisfaction from her job- it was that she could provide for Colette without all the struggles they used to have back home and when they first arrived in the States. Yes, a good life for her daughter.

That was all she dreamed of.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time. Thank you so much for the reads and reviews. I really appreciate them. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!

* * *

><p>Don awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. Before he could chew out the person who woke him up at four in the morning, he was beaten to the punch by Mark.<p>

"We need to shoot Beauty and the Beast in color."

"What are you talking about? The budget-"

"Didn't you notice Lacey French's eyes?"

Don shook his head and that seemed to awaken the memory. Bright, cerulean blue eyes...

"Damn it."

"We need to shoot in color," Mark repeated.

Don groaned. "You couldn't wait three hours to break this to me?"

"In three hours, Leo will be on his way to New York."

Don grimaced and got out of bed.

* * *

><p>Monday was the worst day of the week in Lacey's book. Not just the usual business of hating being back to work or school. She always had to work growing up, the sheep never cared what day of the week it was. By comparison, her life as an actress seemed relaxed.<p>

No, Monday was the worst day because of Colette. On the weekend, she got Lacey's full attention. Trips out, every meal together and Colette soaked it up.

Then on Monday it was off to school and afternoons with Mrs. Lucas. Sometimes more if the shoot ran late. Today was supposed to be an early call which made it worse.

And she had locked the door to the bathroom.

"Colette, sweetheart, I need you to open the door."

"No! If I open the door, you're just going to leave!"

"You're going to leave, too," said Lacey. "Any moment now, Mrs. Lucas will be here to drive you to school."

"I don't care! I hate school!"

"Now, that's not true and you know it."

"Lacey? Where are you?"

"In the bedroom, Ruby!"

A minute later, the tall brunette appeared. She took off her gloves.

"Hey. Granny had bridge club this morning so she asked me to take Colette. Where is she?"

Lacey rested her forehead against the bathroom door. "In here."

"I'm not coming out!"

"Oh," said Ruby. "You can go. I've got this and if not, I can find a screwdriver."

"She has my makeup in there."

"Here," said Ruby rifling in her purse. She pulled out a compact and a lipstick. "This is all I have on me. You ought to be able to get by until you get to the studio. Don't they do your face there anyway?"

Lacey sighed in relief and walked to her bedroom mirror. "Oh, but I have to look perfect every minute I appear in public. Thank you, though."

"Oh, you made the trades. Did you know?"

"I made the trades? How do you know?"

"That neighbor of mine. Mr. Hopper mentioned it when I saw him. He works at Storybrooke, too."

"What did they say about me?"

"That you were going to be one of the leads in Marcus Dashwood's new picture, Beauty and the Beast, opposite Robert Gold."

"Oh, my God, really?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"I forgot to ask."

"Oh and George Knight, too. He's so dreamy. You should ask him out."

"No, thank you," said Lacey. She walked back to the bathroom door. "Colette? I'm going to the studio now."

"Why?!"

"Because, baby, you know I have to work." She took a breath. "I know you don't want me to leave without having one hug and kiss because we won't get another chance until I come home."

Lacey waited. She listened as the lock opened and Colette came out.

Lacey bent down and gave her a hug and a kiss.

"That was not good. You know better."

"I miss you."

"And I miss you, but it's no excuse. Now be good for Ruby, okay?"

"Okay."

Lacey gave her one more kiss and rushed out.

* * *

><p>Don drove to the airport just in time to find Edmund Drexel sitting in the Departures lounge with Leo. He wasn't surprised. This was just his sort of move.<p>

Eva Blanchard was the first to spot him. "Why hello, Don. Come to see us off?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"A likely story," she said with a smile.

"Don," said Eddie.

"Eddie was just telling me he needed Robert Gold for the new Killian Jones picture."

Don scrunched up his face in disgust as if he was hearing this for the first time. Eddie liked to pretend he was subtle.

"For what? The part of the Lord Admiral? Robert Gold is wasted in that part. We have a dozen guys on contract with English accents."

"Killian Jones is box office," said Eddie.

"If you want box office, you can just re-release the last four pictures Killian has made. They're all exactly the same as this script. Dashing rogue pirate sweeps maiden off her feet, walks away with the booty and the girl. You could write this in your sleep. I think Aidan might be."

"The public wants what it wants," said Eddie.

Don shrugged. "The public doesn't know what it wants until it sees it."

Leo turned to Eva. "What do you think, my dear?"

Eva smiled. "Pirate movies are entertaining the first few times, but Don's right. They all end the same. You should let him have Gold. The Miller's Daughter broke my heart."

Eddie glared.

"Alright, Don, you can have Gold."

"Thank you. I just need one more thing."

The call for the Blanchards' plane came and they stood, gathering their things.

"Make it quick," said Leo.

"Lacey French's eyes," said Don.

"She has them, I take it?," asked Leo.

"They're amazing. It's a waste of money to not have them in color."

Eddie laughed. "You want the money for color?"

"A lot of work, a lot of money," said Leo.

"Yes, but you would have the contrast of the grey and blue night, the colors of the village, the dark greys of the castle, the golden sunshine that shines on True Love..."

Eddie rolled his eyes at Don. To be honest, he thought he might be stretching it a little too far at that point.

"Alright, it might be worth it then, but you're going to have to sell it and sell Lacey French. Talk to Regina. I'll call her from New York."

"Yes, sir," said Don.

They said their farewells.

"What do you need Robert Gold as Gaston for?," asked Eddie. "It doesn't even make sense."

"Well, that's my business, but here's a tip: Killian Jones is sleeping with Gold's wife. Everyone else in town knows it, you really want those two spending that much time together?"

"That's not my problem."

"A good producer makes everything his problem."

"Stop trying to teach me things, Don. I don't need it."

"I would never try to teach you. You can't be taught."

* * *

><p>Gold went down to breakfast feeling lighter somehow. No early call, he was just spending the day in the makeup department. Tedious but necessary to get the Beast right.<p>

More than that, no more August Booth film today. The shoot had wrapped and he was free. He could be in the presence of actual artists.

Bae was sitting at the breakfast table with a comic book as Goldie served him a plate. Milah was reading the trades as she was sometimes wont to do.

"Good morning, son."

"Morning, Dad."

Gold flinched. So he had given up on "Papa" as well as his own name.

"Anything exciting at school today?"

"Not really. Just the usual stuff."

Milah put down Variety and eyed him.

"Variety says you're in the new Marcus Dashwood picture."

Goldie poured him a cup of coffee. "I told you that the other evening."

"I was on my way out of the house. What are you doing with that?"

"I have one of the leads."

"Who's this girl? Lacey French?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't met her yet."

Bae spoke up. "Oh, I know her. She's in The Mysterious Island. Henry and I went to see it on Saturday. She's pretty."

Milah eyed him. "How pretty?"

"I don't know."

Gold looked at her son. "How was her acting?"

"You expect Neal to give notes on her performance? Really, Robert..."

"You must have an opinion," said Gold.

"She was good, I guess."

Milah got up. "None of these actresses are very good. They all just get by on their looks and you know what else."

As she left, Bae looked up at Gold.

"What does she mean?"

"Never mind. Eat your breakfast."

* * *

><p>Don's first task back at the studio was to intercept Lacey and take her to the Publicity Department. Regina Mills was the queen there. She had taken over the job during the war and she had done so well at it Leo hadn't bothered to give it to a man after the war was over. Everyone was a little scared of her and maybe that was because she was ruthless, but it mostly had to do with the long shadow her mother, Cora Mills, cast. Cora was Tinseltown's most infamous gossip columnist. She could make or break people.<p>

Luckily for Don, Regina was mostly into making people.

"Is this her?," asked Regina.

"Surprised you two haven't met. Regina Mills, this is Lacey French."

"How do you do?," asked Lacey.

Regina looked her up and down. Lacey shifted uncomfortably as she walked back to her desk and picked up some sort of file.

"It says here you have a daughter," said Regina. "Colette."

"Yes."

"Is she cute?"

"Excuse me?," asked Lacey.

Don patted Lacey's shoulder. "Don't worry. Regina's only half as evil as she wants people to believe."

"It would be easier if she was cute. It's hard to get people interested in your home life if you have an ugly daughter."

"My daughter is amazing."

Regina seemed satisfied. "Ah, she has teeth. I do like that. It makes it easier. Wilting flowers do not last long in this town."

Regina sat. Don motioned for Lacey to do the same and followed suit.

"And the father?"

"Died. In the war," said Lacey.

"Ah," said Regina. "Now that is something. A war widow working to make it on her own like so many others. I've never used that angle before. No beaus?"

"No."

"Good. Let's keep it that way for as long as possible. We want to wait until people get to know you, start to root for you. We want them to want your happiness as much as their own."

"I'm sorry. I don't think I'm following anything that's happening," said Lacey.

"Mark wants to shoot in color," said Don.

"Why?," asked Belle.

"Because of you, dear," said Regina. The young woman stared at her. "Well, isn't it obvious? Your perfect lips, your chestnut curls, your bright blue eyes?"

Lacey frowned. "Thank you. I think."

"That's a big part of it," said Don, "but to do that Leo wants us to make you more of an attraction than you already are. To make you the reason people come to the picture."

"And how do you do that?," asked Lacey.

"Well, The Mysterious Island is still doing very well," said Regina. "It's been gaining every week since its release. I've already done publicity for the major stars, but now, we use you. You'll do interviews, a photo shoot at home, let the public get to know you."

The door opened. A secretary appeared.

"Sorry, Mrs. Mills. They need Miss French back on Iliad."

"Go ahead," said Don. "We can talk more later."

Lacey left.

Regina turned to face Don.

"You're right," said Regina. "You definitely want her in color."

"Don't act so unhappy, Regina. A beautiful war widow with what I'm sure is an adorable daughter, this is easy, unlike the fires you usually have to put out."

She snorted. "You must mean Jones."

"Well, he's Eddie's problem."

"You do know about Gold's wife?," asked Regina.

"I don't suppose you have any way of putting her in line."

Regina let out a mirthless chuckle. "That ship sailed long ago."

"So people keep telling me. I'm starting to think I missed something here during the war."

"Well, let's just say Milah Gold was not darning socks for the troops. She showed her patriotism in other ways."

Don rolled his eyes. "Thank you for painting that portrait."

"You know George Knight is... different?"

"Mark clued me in."

"Now, you clue me in on something. You don't want George Knight for the beast, do you?"

Don smiled. "You were always smart, Regina."

She curled her red lips in return. "Well, that would be the only reason you fought Eddie so hard."

"And you? How hard are you going to fight me?"

Regina eyed him and smiled back.

"I think I might pleasantly surprise you, Don. I might even fight with you."

"Now that would be a surprise."

* * *

><p>"I think this is all wrong," said Mark. He looked up at the makeup artist, Mallory. "Again."<p>

Robert sighed from underneath God only knew how much synthetic fur and latex.

"So," said Mallory, "you don't even want to take it in front of a camera and see how it looks on film?"

"I know how it will look on film and that is rubbish," said Mark. "It's going to be in color and you have him looking like a werewolf."

"Might be an improvement," Gold grumbled.

"Why can't you just let me work?," asked Mallory. "All of the other directors just let me work."

"If I had let you do that, I would have arrived the first day to find a wolf on my set and probably have rung up wildlife control."

They heard a slight shriek and turned to see Lacey had just entered the makeup department dressed as a Grecian goddess.

"I am so sorry," said Lacey. "That was so rude. Please forgive me."

"I won't bother looking in the mirror then," said Gold.

Mark motioned at Lacey. "There, Mallory, do you see? That's Beauty and you just made her frightened of the Beast."

Mallory smiled. "What can I help you with, dear?"

"I need makeup before I can go back to Iliad?"

"Of course. Have a seat. Mr. Diavolo?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Be a dear and take this off Mr. Gold. I'm going to take care of Miss French. Oh, before you start get Ursula to come start Miss French's hair?"

Diavolo nodded and hurried off.

Mark smiled as Lacey took the chair next to Gold.

"Have you two met before?"

"No," answered Lacey.

"Well, Robert Gold, this is Lacey French. She's going to be playing the part of Belle."

Gold said something in affirmation and was quite surprised when a dainty hand appeared before his face.

He finally looked up to see the Grecian goddess attached to the hand. He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity until he finally regained sense enough to shake her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gold," said Lacey.

"Come on, dear, time to get to work," said Mallory. She turned to Lacey. "How is Colette? Did you two have fun this weekend?"

"We went hiking on Saturday."

"Hiking?," Ursula scoffed as she put Lacey's hair in rollers. "What did you do that for?"

"Fresh air?," asked Lacey. "Heard of it?"

"I get plenty of fresh air in my convertible," said Ursula.

"Where did you even go?," asked Mallory.

"Griffith Park."

"Aren't there wild animals out there?," asked Ursula.

Lacey smiled. "I grew up in the bush. I shot a boar when I was nine. I can handle it."

"You shot a boar?," asked Mark.

Lacey shrugged. "It got too close to the sheep."

Gold looked over to Diavolo's chagrin as he tried to remove fur and latex.

"You raised sheep?"

"Yeah, my family had a sheep station. Why?"

"No, I just-"

Gold then realized everyone was looking at him, a sensation he wasn't used to and didn't much care for.

"I grew up on my aunts' sheep farm in Scotland."

"Really?," asked Lacey, her eyes lighting up. "We should compare notes some time. I bet we could bore the rest of them to tears."

"You can save that for your own time," said Ursula.

"Aren't you from a farm, dear?," asked Mallory.

"My father had a shrimp trawler and I thought that was boring as hell, too."

Gold looked away as the hens cackled. Diavolo was trying to get the fur on his forehead and seemed to be pulling on his actual forehead.

"So, why did you leave?," asked Lacey.

"Me?"

Lacey giggled. "Yes, you."

"Oh. My schoolmaster helped me get a drama scholarship. I was off to London." He grunted as Diavolo ripped off a piece of his cheek. "What about you? Why did you leave?"

"My dad lost the place."

"I'm sorry."

Mallory shot him a look. "Don't make her upset, Gold. I'm about to do her eyes."

"It's alright," Lacey said with a smile. "Mark, I was thinking about Belle's mother."

"Oh?"

"Well, her father is obviously an imbecile. I was just wondering if her mother was where her love of books came from? I mean, we don't see her."

Mark cocked his head. "Well, you may be right. I'll have to ask Laurel."

"You think she has that figured out?"

Gold answered. "Laurel knows everything, there are worlds she doesn't put in a script."

"And very often the mother in these things is Laurel's mother," Mark added.

"She was a taught about fairy tales, did all sorts of academic research on them. Laurel knows them inside and out," said Gold.

"Really?"

"Okay, dear," said Mallory. She nodded at Ursula. "You're ready to go. Ursula will brush you out on set."

"Thank you," said Lacey, getting up, picking up the hem of her goddess dress. She looked at Gold. "You look much better."

Gold's glance in the mirror revealed Diavolo had finished with the removal.

"That's nice of you to say, dearie, but I doubt it."

Lacey smiled. "Well, take my word for it. The lack of fur is a big improvement, but then again I never did care for men with beards. You're much more handsome this way."

Gold couldn't form words. Lacey and Ursula left.

"She's right you know," said Mark.

Gold raised his brow. "About what?"

"The fur. Where does it say that the Beast has to be furry?"

Mallory scoffed. "And what is the Beast supposed to be?"

"You do have those dragon designs you never used," said Diavolo.

"Those were just sketches. I was bored," said Mallory.

"A dragon," said Mark. "With a thick skin to keep the world out."

"You could use some color in it," Diavolo suggested.

Mallory sighed. "Okay, I'm not saying it's going to be any good, but I'll give it a shot. It will still be an improvement on the ugly mug I'm looking at."

Mallory hurried off for supplies.

"Lacey French likes it," Mark pointed out.

"She was just being nice," said Gold.

"Well, she is very nice."

"Yes," Gold agreed. "She is."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time. Thanks for the reads and reviews. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!

* * *

><p>Laurel took another sip of her coffee. She and Gold had been sitting in the Studio Commissary an hour now while he figured out a way to eat with the dragon makeup on.<p>

"Did Don tell you to eat with me?"

"You think Don tells me who I have to eat with?"

"Mallory ought to do something with your teeth," mused Laurel.

"Right. It's not bad enough I'm going to be eating lunch like this the next two months."

"And your hair." Laurel paused. "Look, I have no right to ask and you can tell me to bugger off or whatever..."

"That's the English you're thinking of, dearie. I'm likely to do something much ruder but go ahead and ask," he said with a wry smile.

"I know what happened to me is less than what you went through-"

"Oh, don't say that. I would much rather go through what I did than what you did." He shrugged. "I still had my son at the end."

"Oh, look it's a crocodile!"

Laughter accompanied Killian Jones' booming voice in the commissary. Laurel and Gold exchanged looks.

"No, sorry, I was mistaken," said Killian. "It's a coward."

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Mr. Jones?," asked Laurel.

"Need a woman to defend you now, do you?" Killian turned to Laurel.

"She could take you, dearie," said Gold.

Killian scoffed. "I doubt that."

"I don't," said Laurel.

"Is there a problem?"

The three looked up to see David Nolan. Mary Margaret stood just off to the side holding the baby.

"We were just having a chat," said Killian.

"We were finished," said Laurel.

Killian got up and left.

"Are you alright?," asked David.

"Prince Charming saves the day again," said Laurel.

Mary Margaret chuckled. "Robert's right. You could have taken him."

"I helped," David said.

The two joined them at the table.

"We just wanted to show you the baby," said Mary Margaret. "And to invite you both to the christening. It's not until my parents get back from Europe, but we would love you to be there."

"Oh," said Laurel, "I would be glad to."

David looked at Gold. "Emma's really excited for Neal's birthday party."

"Who's Neal?," asked Laurel.

"My son apparently," said Gold.

"It's just a phase," Mary Margaret tried to reassure him. "Kids go through phases all the time."

Gold nodded ruefully.

"So," said David, "what's the new picture about?"

* * *

><p>Sidney Glass was Regina's favorite photographer in the publicity department and he was who she selected to take the photos of Lacey French.<p>

Regina was personally supervising the whole process, pointing out candids for Sidney to take of Lacey as she went about her usual business. One of her co-stars on Iliad was David and his wife, Mary Margaret, brought their new baby by set to show off. Regina seemed to take particular glee in Lacey cooing over the new baby and promised to try to slide one into the profile of the couple. Now they had moved on to her pretending to casually read a copy of Homer's Iliad. Truth be told, Lacey had read it, just not usually with someone shouting at her to look more thoughtful.

"Mama!"

Lacey looked up. Ruby gave a wave as they walked towards her.

"Well, well, this must be Colette," said Regina.

Lacey glanced up at Regina revealing what seemed to be approval.

Lacey motioned at Ruby. "This is Ruby Lucas. She and her grandmother watch Colette for me. This is Regina Mills, she's head of the Publicity Department here and this is Sidney Glass. He's a photographer."

They exchanged pleasantries.

"Well, Miss Lucas, we should get you a tour or something."

"That's okay," Ruby said quickly. "I need to be getting back to work."

Regina knelt down in front of Colette. The woman's demeanor seemed to soften, but she was still focused.

"Your mother said you were very pretty. You have her lovely blue eyes."

Colette glanced up at Lacey.

"Thank Mrs. Mills for the compliment, Colette," said Lacey.

"Thank you," said Colette.

Regina smiled. "You're welcome, dear. Now, are you ready to take some photographs with your mother? And then perhaps she can show you around the studio?"

Colette nodded eagerly.

"Well, ladies," said Regina, "let's get to work."

* * *

><p>Released by Mark for a cigarette break, Gold found that his new look didn't elicit many stares. Strange things happened at Storybrooke Studios, but many failed to see him.<p>

Even more than usual.

"What does Don Francis want with Robert Gold?," he heard a passing clerk ask.

"The hell if I know, everyone knows he's done for."

Gold leaned back against the building, wondering if they were right and he was the only one who didn't know it. He knew what he was, he wasn't one to harbor illusions, but he didn't feel done yet.

"Hi."

Gold looked down to see a very small blonde standing by him.

"Hello."

He eyed her closer. She had blue eyes. Ones he knew.

"You wouldn't by chance know Lacey French, would you?"

"She's my mommy."

"Colette!"

Gold looked up. Lacey French was currently running towards them with her sandals and the hem of her goddess dress in her hand.

"Colette! What do you think you're doing? I told you not to run off! It is very dangerous here! There's lots of ways for a little girl to get hurt!"

"No wild boars, though," said Gold.

Lacey looked up. "Oh, my goodness. Mr. Gold, I didn't recognize you."

"That frightening, is it?"

"No, no, just different," said Lacey. "Mallory did quite a job, didn't she?"

"It took her three hours."

Lacey looked down at Colette. "Now, why did you run off?"

Colette shrugged.

"If you're expecting a sensible answer, you'll have to wait a few years, I'm afraid," said Gold.

"You have children?"

"A boy. He's almost ten."

"It's very important to remember the almost, isn't it?," asked Lacey.

"Oh, very."

"I'm five and a half," said Colette.

Lacey shrugged. Gold shrugged back and Lacey giggled.

"Normally she would be at home, but Regina wants to take some publicity photos of Colette visiting me at the studio."

Colette tugged at Lacey's dress and she looked down.

"Are you doing the princess movie today?"

"No, baby, I'm doing the Iliad."

"I want you to be a princess."

"Well, I'm Aphrodite today."

"Boring."

Lacey motioned at Gold. "Colette, this is Mr. Gold. Do you remember him from The Miller's Daughter? He was Rumplestiltskin."

Gold snorted. "That film is older than her."

She smiled back at him. "My friend Ruby takes her to the matinee when she babysits. Same double feature: Snow White and The Miller's Daughter. Colette's favorites."

"You look different," said Colette staring at Gold.

"Do you think?," Gold asked dryly.

"That princess was mean in that movie," said Colette. "She should have left that stupid king and run away with you."

"Do you think so?"

"Mama will be a much better princess."

"I don't doubt it."

"I'm sorry," said Lacey. "We're taking up too much of your time."

"No, it's fine. I'm just standing in front of a camera with this on for Mark today."

"And you know, if you get bored at all during the three hours it takes to put that on, I don't mind sitting with you and running lines or something. Or talking about sheep?"

It seemed like an eternity between her offer and the time he finally spoke.

"I'd like that."

* * *

><p>Milah just happened to be going through Spotlight Magazine when she found the article on Lacey French.<p>

To tell the truth, Milah had been looking forward to reading the article on Tinseltown's Most Eligible Bachelors, Killian Jones and George Knight among them. She had found a modest little one-page profile of Lacey, with shots of her in The Mysterious Island, a contemplative pose of her reading Homer's Iliad dressed as Aphrodite and one sickeningly adorable picture of her with her daughter getting ice cream at the studio commissary.

Neal was right. She was pretty. Too pretty.

It was then that she heard Robert's came tapping down the stairs.

"There's an article in here on that little costar of yours," said Milah as he sat down.

"Who do you mean?"

"Lacey French. It says she hasn't had any training."

"She seems fine."

Goldie poured him a cup of coffee. "Anything to eat, Mr. Gold?"

"No, I'll grab something at the studio."

Milah fumed.

"Have you met her yet?"

"Where's Neal?"

"He's gone to school early with Henry. So, have you met her yet?"

"Who?"

Milah felt the anger stirring in her gut. "Lacey French."

"Yes, I've met her."

"And?"

"She's very nice."

"Untrained, though. Suppose she's just a pretty face. They just let anyone be an actress here, don't they?"

"Well, training isn't everything, is it, dearie?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?," Milah snapped.

"Nothing," said Gold. "Absolutely nothing."

He got up and left. Milah slammed the magazine against the table making the dishes rattle.

* * *

><p>Gold stared at himself in the mirror, eyeing the leathers. He was free of the crocodile skin today, but apparently that wasn't enough. Jefferson and one of his assistants, Ariel, had fussed over him all morning.<p>

"No, no," said Gold. "This won't do, dearie."

Jefferson groaned at Gold. "Come on, Bobby! This is supposed to be fun and you have to go and ruin it with your..."

"Grouchiness," Ariel supplied.

"Yes, thank you. Your grouchiness." Jefferson eyed him severely. "Mark loved this concept. When you see it with your crocodile skin, you'll feel differently."

Gold turned back to the mirror. Jefferson had started at Storybrooke the same time as Gold, like him the only interruption had been his army service. It was something secret Jefferson still wouldn't talk about, how he was good at getting in and out of places. He had seemed happy enough to return to his work at the Costume Department and life with his wife and daughter.

"I'm not seeing him in this," said Gold.

"Thicker hide to go on thick skin," said Jefferson. He turned to Ariel. "Get the cloak."

Ariel nodded and hurried off. The door opened.

"Lacey," said Jefferson. "How is my Aphrodite?"

Lacey glowered. "Aphrodite tore her hem," she said revealing the end of the dress.

Jefferson walked over.

"You are the clumsiest woman I've ever met. This is the third time."

"I've tried, but it's impossible," she insisted. "Every time I try to move, I'm stepping on something."

"You're supposed to be ethereal!"

Ariel returned. "I have Mr. Gold's cloak."

Jefferson nodded. Ariel walked over to Gold and helped him take off the leather coat and on with the cloak, a dark velvet trimmed in matted-looking animal fur.

"Is that for our film?," asked Lacey.

"It would seem so," said Gold.

"I like it," said Lacey.

"Say, I have an idea," said Jefferson. "We can try on the costumes for the ballroom scene. Do they need you back on Iliad right away?"

"It's some fight sequence, I'm mostly standing around," said Lacey.

"Good. Ariel, go help Miss French."

"Which ballroom dress?"

"The yellow one."

They departed. Jefferson turned to Gold.

"Wait until you see what I have for you."

* * *

><p>Lacey went back to the dressing room with Ariel. The redhead left her while she went to fetch something. She got out of Aphrodite costume and pulled on the waiting robe. It was a few minutes before Ariel returned with Alice, another one of Jefferson's assistants.<p>

Lacey was confused until they finished hauling the dress in. It was massive. It was a beautiful pale buttery yellow with layers of lace and tulle.

Ariel smiled. "It's gorgeous but it's a monster. Jefferson and Eudora have been working on this since you came in for measurements."

"It's heavy," Alice warned.

Ariel laughed. "It weighs seventy-five pounds. Alice is the only one who's tried it on."

"My God," said Lacey.

"It'll take both of us to help you into it," said Alice.

"Go ahead and take off your robe," Ariel instructed. "We'll sort out the right underthings later. Jefferson's just looking for effect."

The girls took the dress off the hanger and began preparing it. Lacey was just left in the white strapless bra and underwear that went under Aphrodite's costume.

"Just step inside," said Ariel.

Lacey gingerly stepped into the middle of the dress and the two women pulled it up. Ariel was in the front, Alice at the back.

"There," said Ariel, smoothing out the skirt in front. "What do you think?"

Lacey looked at herself in the mirror.

"I've never worn anything so beautiful in my life. Colette is going to go crazy."

"Well, you'll have to let her come to the studio that day."

"Oh, dear," said Alice.

"What is it?," asked Ariel.

"She has a scar."

Lacey froze as Ariel walked to the back.

"Goodness," said Ariel. "How did you do that?"

"It was some glass when the Japanese bombed Darwin," said Lacey. She bit her lip. "It's not too much of a problem, is it?"

"No," said Ariel. "I think Jefferson may want to add some more in back anyway. He keeps going on about beading, but Mr. Dashwood has the final say on that."

They walked back out to the main room of the costume department where Gold and Jefferson were waiting. Gold was still in the leather pants and boots, but the top had been replaced with a shirt and blue velvet jacket, half finished with brocade.

"So, am I good or am I good?," asked Jefferson. He walked over to Lacey. "Just one rule, my dear. No tripping over this one. Eudora's having to make you another skirt as we speak. That's just some white silk. This is a masterpiece."

"I'll try," said Lacey.

"Ariel, let's get the camera," said Jefferson.

Lacey shuffled towards Gold.

"Is it hard to walk in?," he asked.

"Incredibly." She noted his boots and leather pants, against the princely velvet. "That's an interesting look for a prince."

He looked down sheepishly. "Well, the boots took a half hour to get on. Jefferson didn't want to bother taking them off for this."

"But won't that be hard on your leg?," she asked.

"It's fine."

"That can't be good for it."

"I've been through worse."

"Yes, I think worse is probably how you got it like that," she said eyeing him.

Jefferson returned.

"Jefferson," said Lacey, "you can't make Robert keep these boots on all the time."

"Have you seen them?" The costumer motioned at them with a flourish of his hands.

"Smiles, everyone," said Ariel, emerging with the camera.

"Oh, wait, stand where we can see the costumes," said Jefferson. "You're leaning too much into each other."

The two actors looked down and were somewhat surprised to find they were standing inches from each other. They stood apart and smiled for Ariel's picture.

"One more for safety and then we'll get some more before we run it to the photography office. I want Mr. Dashwood and Mr. Francis to see these as soon as possible. Miss French, you may go wait for your goddess dress."

Lacey smiled at Robert and left. Jefferson sat and pondered Robert's boots.

"Can you walk in them?"

"I'm fine."

"This is me. I'm not going to run crying to Leo."

Gold gritted his teeth. "I'm fine."

"What about a cane?"

"I have a cane."

"No, for the Beast. I could make it go with the costume, might make it a little easier to move around."

"The Beast doesn't have a cane."

"He's a mythical creature. How do you know?"

"You would have to ask Mark."

"Oh, I will."

* * *

><p>Don was in his office reviewing the sketches for the ballroom when Eddie barged in.<p>

"You don't want Robert Gold for Gaston."

Don looked up from his desk.

"When did I ever say that?," asked Don.

"Leo thought it. Why else would he sign off on this? Nobody would sign off on Robert Gold as a lead. The man is a has-been."

"Well, at least he's been someone, unlike your guy whose main talent seems to be smolder. He's not a bad actor, but, Jesus, write him something that's actually interesting once in a while."

"You can try to mock me all you want-"

"Thanks for that, but I didn't need permission."

"It's over, Don. I've already sent a telegram."

Don noticed Laurel in the office.

"Beauty and the Beast is done," said Eddie.

He walked out, brushing past Laurel.

"Don, what just happened?," asked Laurel.

"Don't worry. I can handle this."

Don got up, putting his suit jacket on as he walked. Laurel was footsteps behind him.

"Don-"

"I can handle this. I knew Eddie would wise up eventually and I have a contingency plan."

"You have a contingency plan?"

"Of course I do."

"Fine. What is it?"

Laurel found herself following him into the studio mailroom, the place where telegrams were taken.

"Mr. Francis-" the clerk at the counter stammered.

"Is this everyone who works here?," asked Don.

"Uh-"

"Could I have everyone's attention, please?," he asked loudly.

The clerks all turned to face Don.

"Does everyone know who I am?"

"Yes, sir," they said in a not quite chorus.

"Good. I assume you're all here because you want to work in movies. You may even want to work for me. Eddie Drexel should have just put in a telegram request, right?"

"Uh, yes, the messenger just brought it by," said the clerk.

"Great," said Don, taking it and tearing it into a dozen pieces. "That's what I want done to all the telegrams Mr. Drexel requests until further notice. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Or you will be lucky to work at any studio, let alone here!," he said, his voice booming through the mailroom.

Don left, Laurel still followed.

"That's fine for here, but how do you stop Western Union?," she asked.

"Well, I have some driving to do," he said heading towards the parking lot.

"And when are you going to tell Leo?"

"When I have the dailies." He paused. "What is the least scandalous thing you know about Killian Jones?"

"I don't know if I understand the question."

"I've got to distract Eddie. Shining a bad light on his golden boy might do it."

"We can't let the papers know about Milah. That will make our lives hell."

"Hence why I said least scandalous, if I have to feed Cora Mills something, I want it to be a little fish."

"Cora Mills? Is that a good idea? Regina will be furious."

"Regina doesn't need to know. What do you know?"

Laurel shook her head. "Do you know Ashley Boyd?"

"Lila Tremaine's stepdaughter?"

"Right, well, during the war, Lila was very involved in the Hollywood Canteen. She was there every night, along with the daughters and the stepdaughter to dance with the troops. Anyway, there was this big thing when Killian finally enlisted, a whole evening's entertainment in his honor and they were about to do the big ceremony and no Killian."

"Let me guess," said Don. "They found him in a coat closet with Ashley Boyd."

"Janitor's Closet. Lila Tremaine was furious with both of them, Regina covered it up and Killian went to war the next day anyway."

"Is that really the least scandalous thing you know? That he might have debauched a coed in a janitor's closet as he was about to leave the country?"

Laurel considered. "Yes, that is actually as good as it gets."

He finally arrived at his Cadillac. "I just want to know for my own benefit. When I was in hell in the Pacific, Mark was getting bombs thrown on him in England, hell, David Nolan was parachuting into France and Robert Gold was imprisoned in Colditz Castle, was anyone here not screwing around?"

"I wasn't exactly having a great time," said Laurel.

"I didn't mean you." He paused as he opened the door. "What did you come to my office for?"

"Nothing."

"You wouldn't have come for nothing."

She shook her head and clutched her notebook. "Steve called and I was just feeling low as usual."

"Steve's a moron."

Don got in his car and drove off.

* * *

><p>Lacey had been on her way back to set when Regina found her.<p>

"Did you see your article yet?"

"I didn't have a chance to read this morning."

"It was a success. I've already gotten calls about the possibility of more articles, including a profile at home."

"At home?"

"Don't worry. Colette was perfectly charming and I'll shepherd you through it."

"Regina!"

Regina froze and turned to see Milah Gold heading towards her.

"Hello." She turned to smile tightly at Lacey. "You haven't met. This is Mrs. Gold."

"Miss French," said Milah. "I saw your article in Spotlight this morning. Very nice."

"Did you now?," asked Regina.

"Thank you," said Lacey.

"You can run along," said Regina, turning to Lacey. "We shouldn't keep you from work."

"Right," said Lacey. She turned to Milah. "Very nice to meet you."

"You too, dear."

Lacey left. Regina turned back to Milah and her smile vanished.

"What are you doing here?," asked Regina. "I hope it's not visiting Mr. Jones because I believe we had a discussion about what is and is not appropriate for a place of business."

"I just wanted to drop by."

"We're a bit past playing the loving wife, aren't we? Or are you jealous of your husband's new costar?"

"Jealous?" Milah scoffed. "What do I have to be jealous of?"

"That she's made it and you couldn't."

Milah stiffened. "Is something going on?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Regina crossed her arms. "I'm going to have a chat with the gate guard. I don't think you should trouble yourself with coming down here anymore."

Milah shot daggers at the other woman.

Regina smiled. "Henry's really looking forward to Neal's party. I'll see you there."

Milah was left to fume. She wasn't done yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time. Thanks for your reads and reviews, I really appreciate them. I have been training for a big race at the end of February so I am trying to balance that and writing and life so bear with me. Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate it and happy reading!

* * *

><p>"Jesus, Regina! Can't you do anything? You're supposed to handle crap like this!"<p>

Regina tried to bury the rage she felt building insider her. Eddie Drexel had been on her for the past hour because the Killian item had appeared that morning. For his part, Killian Jones sat picking at his nails on the other side of her desk.

"I did handle it," she said, looking up at Killian. "Five years ago."

Killian shrugged. "What can I say? The lass was willing and it was on the eve of war..."

"Right. Where did you serve again? New Jersey?," Regina asked with a wicked grin.

Killian glowered.

Regina looked up at Eddie. "I doubt it will affect you much. You trade on his smirk. One little scandal with one young woman does not a career break."

"Are you serious, Regina? These are supposed to be family films. I knew Leo should have hired a man."

"Excuse me?," asked Regina.

"Oh, come off it. A leak in your mother's column? This is amateur hour."

"It will be fine," she said tightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

* * *

><p>Don walked into his office. Mark was waiting.<p>

"Madden sent some pictures of Robert in costume."

"Really?" Don took the proffered photographs. "These are fantastic. Look at those boots."

"I'm going to go over there soon. He's got some pieces for Lacey."

"We should get him in makeup again and look at the full effect. Oh, Marco says he'll have the dungeon set done this afternoon."

Mark scoffed. "And somehow you believe him."

"What's this last one?," asked Don.

"Oh, he says that's the ballroom costumes, except Robert's trousers."

Laurel entered, carrying a stack of bound scripts.

"What's that?," Don asked.

"Revisions and the original tales. You read French, don't you?"

"No..." said Don.

"Oh. Mark, don't you?"

"Not since I was in school," he said with a grimace.

She shook her head at them both. "How do you all manage to get along in the world?"

"Take a look at this," Don said, putting the last photo in front of her.

"My goodness," said Laurel.

"They look like a couple." Don looked to Mark. "Had they gotten together before this?"

"Lacey came into makeup while Mallory was working on Robert's look. They got on splendidly."

"We just need to hope it shows up on screen," said Don. "You can never tell. Where are they today?"

"Coming in for rehearsal for the ballroom scene. Mr. Ashman will be there. He has some music for us."

"Really?," asked Don.

"He's promised brilliance."

"Why don't we see if we can get a camera in there?," asked Don. "I just want to make sure those two translate onto the screen."

* * *

><p>Gold wasn't sure what to do with himself.<p>

He went home for the weekend with no particular plans. As usual, Milah had a full calendar and Bae had activities with his friends, the Scouts, the movies and homework. Gold only actually saw him for Sunday dinner and they barely spoke.

What could he say?

So he buried himself in the script, called Laurel four times and concentrated on getting the work right. He had snuck out once in the weekend to see a matinee of The Mysterious Island. He had let Milah's bitter musings get in his head, wondering if this Miss French was actually any good. He wanted her to be good. If she was, then this film wasn't a total waste of his time, not that he had any say on how to spend his time anyway.

The story was a shipwreck that ended up on an island where strange things kept happening, like a smoke monster. Lacey played "Claire" the young widow who was protective of her infant son. He found it hard to concentrate when she wasn't onscreen. Despite any lack of training, she was good. There were always things to learn.

He had spent the whole weekend looking forward to coming back to work. He went to wait at the rehearsal stage and managed to resist the urge to seek her out which would have been disastrous. Ridiculous.

"Good morning, Mr. Gold."

Gold looked up. "Good morning, Miss French."

She went to arrange her things on a table by her chair. He had never seen her out of the goddess dress or that ballgown, but she worse a blue skirt, white blouse and red peep toe heels. She still looked no less than Aphrodite.

"I haven't seen you," she began as he tried to stop looking at her calves. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"It was alright," he said. "And yours?"

She walked over. "Oh, it was lovely. Colette and I went to the beach."

"Hiking, then the beach?"

Lacey smiled. "I like to get her outdoors. She spends so much time cooped up with her babysitters while I'm working. Don't tell me you don't like to get outside. Sheep boy like you?"

Gold motioned at his leg with his cane. "I don't have much choice."

Lacey considered the ankle and suddenly Gold felt like an idiot for pointing out his own impairment. "Is it very troubling?," she asked.

"Not all the time," he lied.

The door opened.

Mark entered, closely followed by Don and Laurel.

"Good morning," said Mark.

"Good morning," said Lacey.

Mark approached closer. "Mr. Knight will be joining us later in the week, depending on when his picture wraps, but we'll be starting out with you two. Mr. Ashman will be here shortly to work on the first ballroom scene."

"You want to start there?," asked Gold. His gaze flicked nervously down to his bad leg. He looked back up as he suddenly felt Lacey's hand pat the back of his.

"Better to get the technical work out of the way now," said Mark. The door opened. "Ah, Mr. Ashman!"

"Mark," said the thin composer. He exchanged pleasantries with Don and Laurel, then went to the small piano that had been set up near the rudimentary ballroom set.

"Mark seems to think you have something for us," said Don.

"I certainly hope so," he said, setting up some sheet music. He glanced up at them. "I wrote some lyrics."

"Lyrics?," asked Don. "Who's singing?"

"I thought I would let you sort that out."

"There's the objects in the castle," said Laurel.

"What? Is the teapot going to sing?," asked Don.

"Let's just hear him."

Ashman began playing the melody.

It was a haunting and beautiful melody. They heard him out as it began again, Lacey turned to Gold.

"This may be a bit forward of me..."

Gold froze.

She smiled mischievously. "...But would you care to dance, Mr. Gold?"

"Yes. Uh, yes, right, of course."

Lacey led him to the dance floor. Mark motioned to his camera man as they got into position.

"Just do whatever comes naturally," he instructed.

Lacey smiled. "I'll lead."

He stared at her blankly as she began stepping gracefully.

"It's probably been a while since the Beast danced," she offered.

"Yes."

He followed her around the dance floor finding she was skilled enough to cover up his every misstep, not even flinching when he stepped on her toes.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not very good at this."

"I can handle pain," she said. "Hey. Just relax."

"And where does a sheep girl learn to dance?"

Lacey giggled. "My mother taught me."

"Did she now?"

"Yes, she thought I ought to have something to fall back on if the sheep girl thing didn't work out."

The two happily continued their little waltz.

Regina walked into the soundstage. She headed towards Don.

"What's going on? I didn't see the light."

"No, we're just trying to get some blocking done for the ballroom scene. I wanted to make sure their chemistry showed up on screen."

"I think you didn't need to worry," said Laurel.

"There's something there," said Don.

"Well, who'd have known," said Laurel.

"Who indeed?," Mark whispered.

Regina turned. She saw Gold dancing with Lacey. Despite his leg, they moved seamlessly.

"Yes, well then," said Regina, getting a cigarette out of the case in her jacket pocket. She waited for Don to light it.

"Do you think you can do something with that?," he asked.

"I believe I can."

* * *

><p>The music finished again.<p>

"Why don't we take a short break?," Mark suggested. "We'll start up again with the first dinner scene."

"See?," Lacey said. "I told you there was nothing to worry about. How's your leg?"

"Fine," Gold lied.

The crew disassembled and Gold walked with Lacey back to their chairs.

"I knew you would be wonderful," she began after they were seated. "Just like in The Miller's Daughter."

"I doubt I'll be able to do the same thing here. I was a different man back then."

"What happened?"

"I was a prisoner. I tried to escape and I failed rather spectacularly."

"Well, you're still here, aren't you?"

"Mostly."

He felt her hand over his again.

"You survived. I would say you succeeded rather spectacularly."

He was about to say that Milah certainly did not feel the same way, but bit that back. However nice she was, however nice it was to pretend she would, Lacey French would not be interested in the marital problems of an aging cripple. He only nodded.

"How do you take your tea?," she asked.

"Sorry?"

She motioned at the little cart with tea, coffee and refreshments.

"I can get it myself."

"No, I insist," she said. "How do you take it?"

"Milk," he said.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>Upon her mother's arrival, Colette greeted Lacey by bounding up to her for an embrace.<p>

"Mama!"

"Hello, darling!," she said, lifting her up. "Did you have a good day? How was school?"

"Did you play princess?"

Lacey smiled. "I did play princess." She began swaying and spinning around the living room. "We practiced a dance."

"A princess dance?"

"Yes."

"Was there music?"

"There was the most beautiful music you have ever heard."

"Can you sing it?"

"I can hum it," said Lacey and then she proceeded to hum it.

"Well," said Ruby, entering the room, "someone had fun."

Lacey smiled and put Colette on the floor. That didn't deter the girl from spinning around with her arms over her head, humming the new tune.

"I spent the day dancing with Robert Gold. It's tough work, but someone has to do it."

Ruby scrunched up her face. "Can he dance?"

"Ruby!"

"I just mean he's crippled, isn't he?"

"Ruby! He is not nearly as handicapped as people seem to think he is and so what? It's not as if that's important when he has so many other good qualities."

"You don't..."

"Don't what?"

"Like him?"

"He's a very nice man and we have a lot to talk about together."

"That's not what I've heard."

"And what have you heard?"

"Well, you know people from the studios come to the diner. They say he's sort of a monster..."

Lacey shook her head. "He's not a monster."

"And they say..."

Lacey frowned.

"Well, you know, his injury. The war. They say he ran."

Colette stopped spinning. "Ran from where?"

"Nowhere," Lacey said quickly. "Ruby, that's a horrible thing to say about someone."

"I'm just saying what I heard."

"You shouldn't listen to gossip."

Ruby whistled. "You are in the wrong town."

"I am on the wrong continent," said Lacey.

Ruby smiled as she gathered her things. "I got your mail for you, but this was hand-delivered."

Ruby handed Lacey an envelope. She opened it revealing an engraved invitation.

"What is it?," asked Ruby.

"I have been cordially invited to Neal Gold's birthday party." She held up the invitation for her friend's benefit. "A bit fancy for a ten-year old's party, isn't it? Shouldn't it be cowboys or something?"

"I wouldn't know. See you later!"

"Bye!"

Lacey sat on the sofa with the invitation.

"Are you going to a party?"

"I think we are going to a party," said Lacey. "It's for Mr. Gold's son. He's going to be ten."

"Not big kids..." moaned Colette.

"You'll be fine. Besides, if Mr. Gold invited us, wouldn't it be rude not to come?"

"Yes..."

"Yes." Lacey kissed her on the forehead. "Come on. Let's make dinner."

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: I usually don't do this, but as you may have noticed Ashman is a reference to Howard Ashman, the lyricist of Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid. BATB is dedicated to him. I find his story particularly relevant to this one and BATB because he was a gay man who had AIDS in a time when there was an enormous stigma attached to these things, so he knew what it was to be cast out and feared like the Beast which gave one of my favorite childhood films a whole new significance when I found that out. Thanks again.<p> 


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